i typed out a great part 2, but when i hit post, for some stupid reason LJ didnt do it, and it was gone, so now i'm typeing this on word before i post! this one isnt as beautifully written tho...

the cutting story

when i was in the 5th grade i had a best friend named saundra. we used to play the "scratching game". during recess we'd scratch eachothers arms and try to get the other to wince. i used to come home all scratched up with red arms. my mom made me stop playing that game. i didnt want to, i thought it was fun. so i would sit in my room and scratch my legs to see how hard i could take it. i used to make my self bleed. it felt good to me.

im middle school people were so mean and horrible to me, they'd call me fat, and bozo (cause of my curly red hair) and ugly. i hated my life. i would not eat lunch and read in the library everyday. on one very bad day i had, i was sitting in a comfy chair during lunch and i was cleaning out my fingernails with a safety pin, when i accicently cut my finger with it. and it made me feel good. all the chemicals i guess. so after that, on bad days i'd cut my fingers in the library. i stopped doing that once i was in the 9th grade and people became a little less mean to me. the summer between 9th and 10th grade, i lost a lot of weight and had my first boyfriend, that bad thing was he broke up with his girlfriend to date me. his girlfriend had been a friend of the popular girls at my school. so when i went back to school they were living hell to me.

they would follow me around throwing things and makeing fun of me. then i tried to commit suicide and didnt go back to that school. and i was home schooled. while in the hospital when i tried to kill myself, i met a girl who was a cutter. i learned a lot from her about it. when i got out and back home it was always in my head.

i said in my previous post about how bad things got at home after "my little stunt" things were so bad. my moms boyfriend, rick, was horrible towards me. so, on night i decided to try to cut, with a razor, and not safety pins. all i rememeber was how good it felt. all the hot blood was like getting rid of all that pain that was built up inside of me. i wiped all the blood on a white sheet. and drew a circle around it and dated it. after that everytime i cut i would wipe it on that sheet and date it. i was sick. i was becoming obssesed with the pain, and the release, and the happiness it gave me.

during the summer one day. i got in a big fight with my little sister. and she told me my mom and rick were planning on sending me to RICA (basicaly kind of a jail for bad kids to help them get off drugs and bad things, there were different degrees you could be sent there for) my sister told me my mom didnt want me anymore. and that everyone who lived in my house hated me. i cut, i cut a lot and i cut bad. i wrapped myself up and packed some clothes and i left. i went to my friend marjie's house, and we went over to DaniL's.

i was bleeding thro everything. and they saw it. they tried to clean me up. and made me confess everything. they were my 2 best friends, they stuck with me thro everything. all thro high school and a couple years after. too bad DaniL went and slept with mike, and marjie became too self absorbed...

my mom called marjie's phone later and asked were i was. they made me tell my mom how bad i had cut. i refused to tell her anymore. i think marjie told her after all 3 of them took me to the hospital. i played my part very well there. i swore i wouldnt do it anymore, i'd go to therapy i be a good girl. they even brought my sister in for a group therapy. since my sister had started it that day. my poor sister, she was only 13. she cired and could barly talk the whole day. i must have been a sight to see, with bandages from my wrists to my elbows. to this day i still do not know if my mom had really said those things.....

after i got out. of corse i cut again, damn, i stole a plastic fork after the meeting with my sister and cut my leg after breaking it, that night while still in the hospital. a month later i ran away.

i lived for a week, on the streets near DC. with another girl who was a run away. she had been missing for a month and police were close to catching her. the day they got her, i turned myself in. i called my dad. and he came and got me.

my dad was the best. he didnt ask me to be perfect, all he asked was for me to do my best. i stopped cutting for a while when i went to live with him. i went to a new school, i made great friends, no one made fun of me. and everyone knew who i was and---they liked me--- the greatest feeling in the world, to be liked! i started dating mike, who i knew from my old school. in febuary of 2001. tho i have been in love with him for like a year! things went great until december of the next year.

4 days before christmas, i took a pregnancy test. it came out inconclusive. the next day mike cheated on me, with a little 14 year old girl. my life was destroyed. we broke up. christmas eve, i went out and got more trashed then humanly possible with a bunch of mikes friends and marjie. christmas day, i started bleeding and having horrible clots. i still have no idea if i had been pregnant or not.

the day after christmas, mike calls me at 6 PM. "kera, i was in a horrible accident, lidsay is dead (the girl he cheated on me with) and my sister might die." i literaly RAN to his house took him in my arms and told him how much i loved him. i stayed up with him for 3 nights. his sister is ok, she was in a coma for 3 months, but is fine now. mike ended up haveing a bad brain infection and had to have brain sergery. i stood by him the whole time. i'd get out of school early and ride with one of his relatives to the hospital to stay with him. when he came home i stayed at his house every weekend to get up every 3 hours and give him his medicine we had to feed into his pick line (a tube that sticks out of your arm) god, i loved him more then anything.

i finaly broke down with all the hurt and pain i never got to work thro and cut again. i went to the hospital, and when i got out, mike and me got back together. we stayed together till that summer when we had a big falling out. he wasnt past everything that happened in december amd i couldnt get past that he cheated on me the day after we found out i might have been pregnant.

i cut, again, badly. i was back in the hospital. where i met a heroin addict name keith. he made me feel so pretty and good. i met up with him after we both got out of the hospital. keith welsh RAPED me and robbed me and broke my finger. when i told mike, he blamed me. told me i was a whore.

that summer is one big huge blur of blood, hospitals, over 100 stitches and pills. they drugged me up so bad. i didnt know up from down let alone a razor blade from a candy bar. over the next year, i got very good at hiding the fact i wasnt taking my pills and all my cuts.

the cutting wasnt working for me anymore. i needed more pain. i started starving myself. no one liked me anymore. the pills were making me fat, and the horrifying scars i have turn men off. i must be thin! i lost about 70 pounds. i'm 5'8 almost 9 and i went down to about 135. now thats not terribly thin, but i wasnt very healthy.

doing that threw me into an even bigger depression when one day my mom came in my room forced me to talk to her. i hadnt been out of my room in over 2 weeks, and she hadnt seen me eat. she KNEW i was cutting again. she tackled me and took all my clothes off. and stared at my cut up bloody body. she had me taken away, again...

the hospital had to count and draw how many cuts i had on me for hospital records. they had 2 sheets of paper with a frount and back drawing of a human body. they counted over 200 fresh cuts, and ran out of space on the paper.... thats how bad it got. and those were only FREASH cuts, not counting the scars and still pink, but not fresh cuts. i was horribly sick. that was in march of 2003. i spent 2 weeks in that hospital. i felt a lot better after that stay. i allowed myself to eat 800 calories a day. and i damned near had run out of places to cut, so i stopped for a while.

i spent a month in virginia with my friend will, who i think saved my life. saved me from cutting anymore. he made me feel like a worth while person.

after i left virginia, i met a new boyfriend, kirk. my first real boyfriend since mike. we had a great relationship in the begining. i still had eating problems, but the more friends i had, the more i seemed to feel comfortable in my own skin. i stayed with kirk in new jersey for a while. and made lots of great friends. tho towards the end of me and kirks relationship i started cutting again. not bad and it only lasted about a month. when i met jakes father and got pregnant. i didnt cut again, till a few months ago, when me and mike had a fight and i havent cut since.

a month and a half ago when mike left me for good. everyone was so scared i'd start cutting again. and i almost did. but i didnt. i stayed stong. i stayed stong because of the great friends i have. Nathan, Mike sweeny, my new friend Val, Will, and Paige.

i still crave the slicing, i still crave the blood, i still crave the pain and the release that comes from it. my blood itches me. i constanly feel like i have too much blood and it need to get out! its a daily struggle.

the person who saves me from my self and the only true friend i've had all these years (my razor) is jake. when he smiles all that pent up blood fades away. i love him for everything he is, and how much he has saved me and helped me.